The Other One
by InSpaceYoghurt
Summary: A strange American scientist, Alene Stephens, moves to London into the flat next to John and Sherlock. Hoping she can leave her dark past behind her, she applies for a job in London called HEXA, a secret project between the American and British governments. Can Sherlock, Alene, and John figure out the truth behind HEXA? *Slow start, so if you want, I would start on chapters 3 or 4.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own any part of the Sherlock series or characters, but I hope you enjoy this story. I hope to be making 4 or 5 parts to this story so please enjoy. Please tell me if there are any typos or grammatical errors. Constructive critism is greatly appreciated as is comments and reviews. Thank you.**

Part 1

London was colder than Alene Stephens had expected it to be. She had recently moved to London into an old and dusty flat on Baker Street from the busy city of Los Angeles. The flat was the cheapest thing Alene could find that allowed for pets and wasn't a house. She enjoyed having close neighbors, yet she hadn't gone to meet them. She assumed they were a couple (but wasn't 100% sure), living in 221B. The flat right next to, what she could now call her own.

The land lady, Mrs. Hudson was extremely kind when it came to her moving in, showing her around and helping to clean the place up a bit. Alene had asked about the neighbors, but Mrs. Hudson just laughed saying they were 'an odd pair but, give it time and they're not too strange'.

Today would be an exciting day. It was going to be her first day in lab with her old colleague who used to work with her. She hadn't seen Becky Rose in a very long time, though they kept in contact, e-mailing each other now and then. Becky had been part of some international project between the British and American governments. Now they had asked Alene to do the same. So here she was, her dream coming true.

Alene walked up the street as cars rolled by. So far, Alene had preferred to take taxis or walk since it was a bit different from what she was used to. It wasn't the metric system that bothered her, she was used to converting numbers for lab work, but the fact the cars drove the opposite way in the U.S. Steering wheel; Right side. Side you drive on; Left side. Very odd indeed.

Walking to the building, she looked at the door labeled as 221B. She could knock right now. She could just say a quick "hello" and be off. They really couldn't be that odd. Could they? No stranger than herself.

Quickly pacing to the door, she looked around, hesitating before knocking on the door, and when she did, she was surprised to see Mrs. Hudson there.

"Oh, Ms. Stephens!" She smiled.

Alene smiled back, tucking her short black hair behind her ear. "Mrs. Hudson, how are you?" Alene asked.

"Oh, just fine, dear," She said. "Would you like to come inside? I have a nice pot of tea brewing for the Boys. You can join us if you want," She said, pulling the black door open wider.

"Oh, that's okay," Alene said, stepping back. "I don't want to impose on you as an uninvited guest," she said, smiling. "I just wanted to say 'hello' to the two who live here."

"Sherlock and John, you mean?" She asked, still with a smile.

Alene nodded her head. "If of course they aren't busy," she added.

"Busy? Them?" Mrs. Hudson gave a smile.

"Well I always see them leaving the flat and all. The one's a detective, is that right?" asked Alene.

" don't you have tea with us?" Mrs. Hudson asked again, this time opening the door all the way, showing the inside of the flat.

Alene smiled, and walked in the entry. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to be rude," Alene said, but stopped when she heard Mrs. Hudson mumble something that sounded like 'crazy', but Alene couldn't quite catch it. "What was that?" She asked.

The landlady smiled at her and laughed. "Oh nothing, dear. Why don't I take you upstairs?"

Alene did what she told, following the older lady up the stairs and into a smaller room where the two, Sherlock and John, sat.

The taller, darker haired one looked at Mrs. Hudson with a puzzled face. His blue eyes meeting Alene's, who she then awkwardly waved at the two. The tall one did not smile, but simply gave the land lady a strange stare.

"Who is this?" He asked plainly. His voice was deep, and he seemed to look as though he was analyzing Alene.

Alene looked around the messy flat. The sunlight shining through the dirty windows showed all of the dust particles floating in the air and piles of books and papers laid around. Near the far window next to the fireplace and where the two sat stood a music stand and a violin. Interesting.

"This is your new neighbor, Alene Stephens. She's just moved in 221C," Mrs. Hudson said lightly.

"Hello," Alene said. "I've just moved in last week."

"Obviously." The man seemed to roll his eyes a bit. "I saw you as you were moving in. I didn't know you were American, however," The tall one said abruptly. "Strange."

The shorter one with a blonde-gray head finally stood up and walked over to Alene, holding out his hand. "Sorry about him. I'm Dr. John Watson, by the way. Nice to meet you," He said as Alene shook his hand.

Alene smiled. "You're a medical doctor, aren't you? No. Medical doctor who served in the army I bet." The man seemed a bit startled and looked back at the other one, Sherlock, who now had an intrigued face.

"Sherlock Holmes," The dark haired one said, standing now too. "Interesting," He said.

Alene shook her head. "What do you mean by interesting?"

"You could tell John was an army doctor. How?" Sherlock queried.

Alene then gave a little giggle. "Is it not obvious? His hand. When I shook it, it was very steady. He had already mentioned he was a doctor so my brain went to surgeon, but then I realized it would be unlikely for him to be at home. Surgeons are rarely home unless they have an off day. Not only that but I see him walking around with you all the time," Alene said lightly, but in her mind, she was telling herself to shut up because she was being a freak again.

Immediately realizing what she was doing she stopped. "Sorry," she said.

Dr. Watson looked at her, not sure exactly what to think of her. Holmes had gotten closer to her, intrigued by her ability.

"Please do go on," He said, now smiling.

"Uh, I'm sure I'm being a bit odd. Sorry about that. I don't know if Dr. Watson-"

"Who cares?" Sherlock said.

"Sherlock!" Dr. Watson said but the taller one ignored him by rolling his eyes a bit.

"Carry on, Miss. Stephens."

"Um, okay," Alene said hesitantly. "Uh, anyways. Dr. Watson couldn't be a surgeon and most likely doesn't practice anymore, in the medical field I mean. He's retired from it but helps you, Mr. Holmes. I saw the gun, over there on the table," Alene said, pointing out the gun. "I assume that it was your gun, Mr. Holmes, but Dr. Watson has used it before and very recently. I mean, no offence to you, Mr. Holmes, but you don't exactly look like the most organized person. Look at how and where it's placed. So, we know is Dr. Watson is a doctor and is somehow trained in using firearms. Hence why I figured he has served before. He's an army doctor." Alene paused, then looked down. "And I also may have seen the paper sitting over on the table that is labeled to John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers," Alene's voice trailed off.

_Nothing like telling new neighbors you were snooping at their mail. _Alene shook her head.

A bit astounded, the two looked at Alene, who's face had gone red. "I'm sorry. I should go," Alene started for the door as Mrs. Hudson held her hand up, trying to get Alene to stay.

John frowned. "Look, you made her freak out and leave, how nice of you Sherlock," Alene could hear John say as she walked down the stairs.

"What am I supposed to do? It's her decision she wants to leave. She's a scientist anyway. She is most likely needed in lab, or something."

Alene paused at that. How did Sherlock know what she did as a living. She didn't remember saying anything about her career. Carefully walking back up, she knocked on the door again. "Excuse me?"

"Ah, Ms. Stephens," Sherlock smiled, then quickly drew back to a blank expression. "What do you want?"

"Uh, I was just wondering how you knew I was a scientist," Alene rocked back and forth. "I don't believe I told you."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not the most sociable person, yet I know you noticed I seemed intrigued with the fact you could analyze who John was. I'm sure you could have gone further but decided not to because you figured we would think you were a freak. You're whole life you've been told that you were odd. Different. You didn't have that many friends, which unlike me, made you seek out different people to hang around with, but you didn't stay with those 'friends' for long," Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, stop it. You're being rude. Stop it," John said.

"No, please. I – I'm fine," Alene simply said, looking down. _A bit odd, yes. But how? How can he analyze someone at this level? _

"Yes, John, see. Now, back to where I was. Oh, yes, that's it," Sherlock said, pausing. "One of your parents died when you were young, my deduction; father. You were close to him. He was most likely a scientist as you are. I could tell you are a scientist by the way you keep your hair a medium to short length, usually up. You smell a bit like disinfectant, and you keep a couple of flasks and slides in your bag," He said, pointing to her purse. "You are could be a chemist, maybe a microbiologist. I really -" he cleared his throat. "I really couldn't tell." A bit of irritation came from his voice after saying this. "Of course, I have only met you and in an environment not familiar to you… but I could tell you about your characteristics!"

Shocked, Alene backed up a little bit but then shook her head. "I'm not the only one," She whispered soft enough that Sherlock or Watson could hear.

"Tea?"

Alene jumped, then laughed to see Mrs. Hudson who had brought up three cups of tea.

"Oh, please," Alene smiled.

"Here you are dear," She said, handing Alene a small mug smiling. "If they give you any trouble, let me know, I'll be downstairs," Mrs. Hudson said, winking setting down the tray. "Boys, the tea's over here. Come get it. I'm not your housekeeper," she said, walking off.

The two of them looked at each other then got up to get a cup.

"Here, why don't you sit down, Ms. Stephens," Dr. Watson said.

"Oh, Alene, please," Alene said, smiling as Watson pulled out a small wooden chair.

"Alene, where do you work?" Sherlock asked, taking a sip of tea when a sudden baby scream came from another room.

"Oh, Rosie," Watson said. "Excuse me, Alene." Watson hurried down the hall and Alene was left with Sherlock.

"So, uh, who's baby?" Alene asked. "Not to be too nosy," she added.

"You tell me," Sherlock said.

Alene looked down. "Really, I don't want to be nosy, but it's Dr. Watson's isn't it." Alene then gasped a bit. "How sad," Alene said softly.

"Yes?" Sherlock asked.

"His wife died. Didn't she?"

"Good job Ms. Stephens," Sherlock said.

_So, she was originally wrong. The two weren't a couple. They were only close friends. _

"So how do you do it?" Alene asked.

"Do?"

"Analyze people the way you do."

"I usually can deduce people by what they wear, how they look, physical features and all that without knowing a thing before hand," Sherlock stated. "You?"  
"I look for clues. I'm very observant. You can tell a big sum of a person's life by just being very observant," Alene said, looking around the flat. Then paused. "So, Mary. It was her name, right?"

Sherlock looked down. "It's a complicated story."

"I like complicated," Alene grinned.

"What's complicated?" John asked from behind her.

"Oh, nothing," Sherlock said.

"The story of the two of your lives," Alene smiled.

"Very complicated indeed," John smiled back. "He tell you about what we do?"

Alene shook her head, finishing up her tea.

"Play for us, would you?" Sherlock asked, picking up his violin and holding the bow out to Alene.

"Sorry?" Alene was surprised. Sherlock was very observant, indeed.

"Sherlock!" John said.

It was a bit funny. The two complimented each other perfectly reminding Alene of two brothers.

"Maybe next time, I ought to be going soon," Alene said, taking a pen and paper out of her small bag. "My number," She said scribbling down some numbers and handing it to Sherlock, then she smiled. "It was nice to get to know you both," She said and started down the steps.


	2. Chapter 2

**As you all know, I do not own any of the Sherlock characters or anything else related. I only share my ideas of their stories so, please enjoy. Reviews and comments are lovely.**

Alene brushed her short and straight, space-black hair, pulling it up into a sleek ponytail in front of the mirror which reflected the image of the dark, barren room. She was practically renting a basement which was musty and cold. The flat had two small bedrooms, one of which she was planning on turning into a lab. There was also a small living space and kitchen which she had already filled with piles of books yet to be put up on shelves.

A small cat purred from behind her. It was a ginger orange with a squashed face resembling something between a cat and pig. Alene named it Crookshanks, after Hermione's cat in _Harry Potter_. Even though Crookshanks wasn't the cutest from the outside, Alene had just fallen in love with him when she had seen him.

_Bizz_. Alene looked down at her phone. A small message notification appeared on the screen. Unlocking her phone, she looked at the message. It was from Becky Rose.

-Where are you? Weren't you supposed to be here an hour ago?

_How funny of you, Becky, _Alene thought, but as soon as another frantic message popped up, Alene's grin disappeared. Panicking, Alene looked at the time. 12:35. _Shit. _Alene was already an hour late! Looking around she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her brown coat, running out of the flat, waving down a taxi like a maniac.

Sherlock

Sherlock Holmes stared out of his window, looking down at the street. The girl who had just been at their flat was running around, looking like an utter maniac with her arms flailing around above her head.

"What are you looking at?" John asked from behind him.

"Oh, nothing. Just the neighbor," Sherlock said with a bit of a grin. "She's out their waltzing like she's a lunatic."

John took a peek out the window, but the girl had already gotten into a cab and left.

Taking a last sip of tea, John said, "Don't you feel bad we didn't go to greet her earlier?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and John knew exactly what that meant.

"Okay, fine. What is it?" John asked setting his cup of tea down.

"Alene Stephens. Moved from America to London. Not many do this unless their adventurous or because of work."

"Well I suppose lots of people come for work reasons. Maybe she's just visiting for a couple months," John said.

"No. She's here for work and seems that she'll be here more than just a couple months. We already know she's intelligent," Sherlock said.

"Smart as a whip. Like you," John said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, perhaps. Moreover, we know her job is some sort of scientist. Now, what do we know. A new case pops in," Sherlock says handing John a newspaper article, "And our new neighbor fits exactly with the place."  
John read the paper aloud. "New secretive scientific project between Britain and American gov." John shook his head. "Just because she's a scientist doesn't mean…"  
Sherlock shoved a phone in John's face. It was a text message from Mycroft.

"Alene Lucy Stephens, American government service. Scientist in several different majors. Top of her graduating class," Sherlock said. "She's working for Them."

Alene

Alene anxiously tapped the side of her purse as she and the cab driver sat in a slow paced traffic line. Annoyed with Alene's inability to stop fidgeting and making obnoxious noises, the cab driver stared at the dark haired girl.

"Where you headin', Ma'am," The cab driver asked. Alene could only see a large silhouette of the driver and his dark green eyes.

"Oh, It's my first day of work, here," She said, still tapping her finger.

The cab driver nodded. "You late? You seem a bit – a bit nervous," he said.

Alene forced a laugh. "Yep. I'm only like, ya know, more than an hour late to a prestige company that has no tolerance for newbies. So yes. Jus' a bit nervous." Alene then shook her head, resting it in her hand. "WHY MUST THIS HAPPEN? TODAY? WHY?" Alene cried out.

The driver only nodded. And that's when it happened. Alene heard it before she felt the explosion. It was loud as the great bang pierced into her ears before the car got sent into the air and then come crashing into the ground, shattering the windows. Car alarms blared and the sound of frantic screams echoed in the street.

Alene felt a shard of glass cut through her cheek as her forehead hit the front seat, then her seatbelt pulling hard against Alene's chest sending the last of her breath out of her body. _Well there goes any chanced of getting to HEXA._ Then darkness.

Sherlock

Sherlock picked up his violin and started playing a simple tune while John sat in his chair, scratching his head.

"So, our neighbor is working for a top secret government association because she's a super genius?" John asked, though didn't expect an answer from Sherlock. Tapping his fingers against an empty mug, he looked back at Sherlock. "She's not, you know, dangerous? Is she?"

"Why?" Sherlock asked, his playing abruptly stopping. "You _like _her?"

"What? No. Well – erm, I mean yes. Just… not in that way." John cleared his throat.

Sherlock looked at John whose face had turned pink. "Of course," Sherlock said, turning towards the window again. "I suppose she's not a threat. Not yet, at least. But the company. HEXA. What dirty little secrets are they hiding?"

A small bang sounded in the distance and the street below flowed with more people. _How strange, _Sherlock thought.

"Well I suppose you're brother could fill you in on some of their plans. He _is _the British Government anyways," John said, picking up the paper when Sherlock's phone beeped. "Ah, that must be him now."

Sherlock turned around. "That of course is Mycroft," Sherlock said, rushing to his phone.

"Whatsit say?" John asked.

Sherlock just shook his head. "We're headed out!" Sherlock exclaimed, reaching for his coat and scarf, John following Sherlock.

"Yeah? What does it say though?"

Alene woke up laying in a hospital bed. _Ah. My old friend. _She looked around her. She had an IV attached and a monitor beeping away. _Annoying little thing. _Alene could only laugh. She had been in London no longer than two weeks and was already hooked up to a machine in the hospital. Must bad luck always follow her?

After a couple minutes of staring into space, a hospital door opened with a nurse in lilac scrubs holding up a small clipboard came in.

"How are you, Miss Stephens?" She asked, smiling.

"How would you be after almost being blown into a million pieces?" Alene asked wiggling around in her bed, trying to sit up.

"Careful, you might pull the IV out," the nurse said.

_Well. This nurse certainly had a lot of training. _"Seriously? You must be new here," Alene said, scoffing. "The needle, if you have done this right, will NOT come out." Rolling her eyes, Alene finally got into an upright position, then tugged the needle out. "Unless I do that."

"Ma'am, don't do that!" The nurse said running over to Alene.

Pulling the sheets off herself, Alene looked down. "Why the hell am I in a gown?"

"You were just in a - "

"Yeah, yeah. I'm late for work!" Alene said, getting out of the bed and looking around for her clothes.

The nurse pushed Alene back into the bed.

"Ow!" Alene complained.

"Well then stay in bed!"

Another knock came from the door, Alene pushing the nurse away as the door soon came open. A tall dark haired man dressed in a dark blue overcoat and blue scarf came walking in shortly following a shorter man with sandy hair. _Sherlock Holmes and John Watson._

"Detective, Doctor!" Alene exclaimed, then frowned. "What the hell are you two doing here?"

"I'm a detective, remember," Sherlock winked.

"Ah, yes." Alene shook her head then looked at the nurse trying to pull off any other cords attached to her. "Well, I'm so sorry to all of you, but I really must be on my way. I'm more than late to work, so if you would excuse me," Alene said, still looking around for her clothes.

Sherlock stood by the door. "Ah, well of course," he said, smiling, watching as Alene gathered her stuff, then opened the door for her. "After you," he said, then followed the dark haired girl out of the room.

John only shook his head and said to the nurse, "So sorry for the two of them." Then he left the nurse to herself as she stood there with her clipboard, awestricken.

John caught up to the two of them waiting outside the hospital. Alene had already changed back into normal clothes. "What in your bloody minds were you thinking? You can't just walk out of a hospital," John said, crossing his arms, staring at Sherlock.

"Dr. Watson, please calm down," Alene said, fixing her hair. "Thank you for your assistance Mr. Holmes, but I really must be going." Alene started walking out looking for the nearest place to catch a bus.

Sherlock frowned. "Miss Alene!" He called out, but Alene ignored him and kept walking.

"What the hell is going on right now?" John groaned to himself.

***Also, very sorry for the short chapter and for nor posting it for a while. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - Don't own Sherlock characters or anything like that. Also, this will probably be more parts than I originally planned, seeing that the chapters aren't quite that long. Reviews/comments are greatly appreciated. Thank you.**

Chapter 3

The ride back to 221B was dull. Not that it was any different than other times, but sometimes it could get to John with all of the silence. He was used to this whole last-minute-shit-let's-go sort of thing, but it never occurred to John why Sherlock would act so mysterious sometimes.

In the back seat of the taxi, Sherlock stared blankly out the glass window, his mouth gaping open the slightest and his eyes glazed over. John wanted to ask what had happened, but he knew Sherlock would just shush him, so instead, the two sat silently until they pulled up outside 221B.

Sherlock and John made their way back to 221B, the two shuffling past Ms. Hudson, John trying to catch up with the fact.

"So, what the hell just happened, Sherlock?" John pressed. "Why'd we leave? How'd you know Stephens was in the hospital?"

Sherlock, being his usual stubborn arse didn't say a word. Instead, he plopped himself down on the old dusty couch and closed his eyes, bringing his hands together as if he was praying. John rolled his eyes at that and scoffed.

The room stayed utterly silent as John just stared at Sherlock. After about ten minutes of silence, John interrupted Sherlock's thinking session. "What the hell is going on?" John asked, crossing his arms.

Sherlock's eyes opened. He sat up and blinked at John. "If you are so worried why don't you just check my phone?" Sherlock then shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "Shit, I have to start over now," he mumbled.

John shook his head, cursing at Sherlock in his mind then walked over to Sherlock's coat, grabbing his phone. Unlocking it, he saw the message Mycroft had sent.

\- Bomb attack 5th street. Your new neighbour is already getting herself into trouble.

"So that's how you knew," John mumbled, then cleared his throat. "Why her?"

Alene's POV

Why did awful things always happen to Alene. She hadn't even been in London for that long and someone was already trying to kill her. She knew it was no coincidence she was near the center of the explosion. She knew it was no coincidence others were not harmed.

But why? Who was after her tail. She had made amends back in L.A. No one had reason to follow her here just to get a chance at killing her. If someone really wanted her dead that bad, they should have done it while she was still in California.

Walking as fast as she could in her hell forbid heels, she made her way up the sidewalk to HEXA HQ. _Inventing and Innovating the Future, _she thought in her mind. Not caring her hair had fallen to pieces, barely staying up and that her jacket had been ripped on the sleeve she walked through the grand glass doors taking a deep breath in.

The lobby was even grander than she thought it would be. Holographic images were split all of the room showing statistics of so many things. The ceiling was high with a great glass dome displaying stars. Small robotic devices swept the ground and the sleek, white furniture glowed with a luminous color.

Alene walked over to the receptionist. The receptionist resembled a human, but it's face was a pearl white with glowing purple eyes and only a small box as a mouth.

"How can I help you?" It asked. It's robotic voice echoed in the room.

Alene shifted a little. She had never really talked with AI before. "I am a new employee here, working in the Biotech department, lab 36."

The robot tilted it's head. "Name, please."

"Alene Stephens."

If the robot had been human, it would have smiled, but instead, picked up a small ID card and handed it to Alene. "Thank you for visiting HEXA. Lab 36 is down hall 3a, fourth room on the left hand side"

Alene smiled brightly, taking the small card and hanging it around her neck then skipped down to the lab.

Even the halls had some sort of sleek and modern style to it. The walls were white with a light metallic gray band running along it and giant windows displayed the view of part of London's city.

When she got to the doors of lab 36, she hesitantly knocked on the doors, which immediately opened. The room was painted a dark gray, holding two lab tables, two desks with a state of the art computer sitting on them, and long cabinets filling the back of the room.

A tallish girl with a dark complexion and dark hair pulled back into a pony stared into the lenses of a microscope. She wore a bright white lab coat and goggles pushed over her hair, sitting on top of her hair.

Alene smiled. "Looks like someone doesn't like to follow the basic lab rules."

The girl kept staring into the microscope but smiled the slightest as she adjusted some of the knobs on the side. "Looks like someone wants to set a record of fastest person to lose her job," she replied, then looked up from the microscope to Alene. "Miss Alene Stephens, I believe you were pretty damn close to be that person." Then she went to embrace Alene, who hugged her back just as hard.

"Becky," Alene said.

"Alene." Becky broke the hug then looked at Alene again. "What the hell happened to you?" She asked looking at her ripped and charred clothes.

"Oh, that," Alene said. "I just figured I could change here."

"Forget about the fashion," Becky teased. "What happened?"

"One word," Alene said, going to the sink to wash her hands. "Bomb."

At that, Becky just shook her head, smiling. "Girl, you are just a walking box of trouble, waiting to explode."

"Really," Alene laughed grabbing a lab coat and gloves. "So, I guess I start working?"

"So, I guess you start working," Becky said softly.

Sherlock's POV

Mycroft stood leaning on his umbrella with a scowl on his face, as usual as he looked around the dusty flat that was 221B. Sherlock and John stared back at Mycroft with arms crossed.

"Well?" Mycroft eventually said. "What am I here for?"

"Tea?" A voice came from behind him. Mrs. Hudson looked up at the towering Mycroft Holmes.

"That would be lovely," Mycroft smiled.

"Kettle's over there," Mrs. Hudson said, pointing to the kitchen. "Might want to watch out though. Sherlock's been doing his experiments again and you never know what might be in the pot," She said. "You know last time I found a cooked eyeball floating - "

"Enough of this nonsense," Mycroft said coldly.

"Rude," Mrs. Hudson replied, then turned around and walked back downstairs.

Shaking it off, Mycroft looked back at Sherlock and John. "Why in the bloody hell did you ask me to come here, again?"

"Because I want to know what you know," Sherlock said.

Mycroft scoffed. "Well, that would take a millennia, now, wouldn't it?"

"What do you know of the organization, HEXA?" John cut in.

"Are we really doing this here? You could've asked me over text," Mycroft said.

Sherlock sat down in his chair. "Phone plans," he simply said.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, also sitting down then cleared his throat. "HEXA. A project specializing in biotechnology between the American and British government, HEXA standing for -"

"Yes, yes," Sherlock said, stopping his brother. "Biotech, blah blah blah. More importantly, what do you know of Alene Stephens." Sherlocks piercing blue eyes stared at Mycroft.

"Not much. You're the fools who have met her. You probably know more about her than me," Mycroft said.

"Fools? Why are we fools to have met her?" John asked.

"Oh, good question John. Why is that?" Sherlock inquired.

"For the love of God," Mycroft started, rubbing his hand over his forehead. Then, standing up, he walked back to the entry. "She has a complicated past. Best for you two to butt your nosey heads out of it," he said. "I'm talking to you, Sherlock."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "What a help you were." Then walking over to Mycroft, he pushed him out of the doorway and shut the door. "Well then."

"Well then," John said. "Now we figure out why her life was complicated?"

"We do, indeed."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N - I'm so sorry again for not sticking to the updating schedule. I'm really bad at that, but I hope you enjoy this chapter. As a disclaimer, I do not own any part of the Sherlock franchise/series so with that said, please enjoy. Reviews/Comments are greatly appreciated.**

Part 4

"I can't believe my girl is back," Becky said as she wrote down a couple notes. "I thought you was only gonna leave the state, not the whole country. I didn't know you caused that much trouble in Cali."

Alene shrugged. "Don't make it into such a big deal. I only left because HEXA offered me this job, the only company to offer me a job after my – incident."

"You mean INCIDENTS." Becky smiled as she pumped some Germ-X into her hand. After drying them off, Becky motioned Alene to follow her and Alene did as she said.

"So, you've been working here for a long time. Have any idea what they _actually _do?" Alene pressed as she followed Becky through the halls.

"You're the girl who'd have any chance in figuring it all out. You and your mental superpowers," Becky said, still walking.

"First of all, I do not have superpowers," Alene stated as she followed. "Second of all, I do my best not to be so – irresponsible when it comes to analyzing others. It's what got me into the whole incident anyways."

Becky shook her head and stopped. "Well, superpowers or not, you've gotta admit it's the coolest thing anyone here can do." She pointed at a couple people in white lab coats like their own. "See them? They work in Bio-Tech too. The only thing is they seem like complete lunatics."

"If you weren't you and you met me, you'd think I'm a complete lunatic. I mean. Look at me. I'm a mess. I look like an experiment gone wrong." Alene pointed at the black marks on her cheeks that were still a dark hue.

"No, what I mean is they don't belong in Bio-Tech. They seem. . . relatively incompetent, honestly."

Alene squinted her eyes a little more, looking closer at the two people standing in the corner. "Albert and Christine?"

"Yep. Apparently top of their school-"

"No. _We're _top of our school. Them, not so much. I mean look at them. Christine is probably prone to loosing all of her things since she has-"

"Shhh!" Becky said, pushing her into the closest room.

Alene shook er head. "You're the one who said it was okay."

"Yeah? Well let's not have your inner chaos of analytical prowess show just yet."

Alene rolled her eyes, then looked around the room they were in. At first, it seemed as though they were in a messy storage closet. The lights were turned off and clutter filled the shelves around them. It was a smaller room than the lab, but no smaller than a medium sized bedroom. Wires and rods of aluminum and other metals were piled on top of each other.

"Why the hell are we in here?" Alene asked.

"You'll see," Becky said, then she flipped on the lights. After a couple seconds of standing still, Becky frowned. "Andrew?" she asked.

"Andrew? Who's Andrew?"

"Well I was gonna show you. I thought you might like him. You know…" her voice trailed off. "He usually has a fit when you turn on the lights. Something about focus."

Becky explored the room when suddenly a deep, baritone voice came from behind the two.

"Sorry, Andrew left for coffee."

Alene didn't have to turn around to know who it was. "Listen-" Alene started, but Becky had already started.

"And who might you be? I don't recall Andrew having an assistant," she said. "Heck, you're not even wearing an I.D card. How the hell did you get in?" Becky asked.

"A bit of a long story, Miss Rebecca Rose. I also suggest not calling security."

"What the – how the hell do you know my name?" Becky asked, getting more defensive by the second.

"Well you're I.D. card, of course. I know you are a scientist, working in the Bio-Tech department working for HEXA. Now why don't you leave the room?" Sherlock said.

Becky shook her head, this time squeezing her hands into a fist.

"Becky, wait. I've got this," Alene said.

"Ah, thank you, miss Stephens," Sherlock started, but stopped when he saw the look on Alene's face which looked as if it would explode.

"Okay, you seem very intellectual and your partner seems very nice-" Alene started.

"Wait, Al, you know him?"

"Yeah. He's my neighbor. Smart, but sometimes a complete IDIOT when it comes to manners!" Alene raised her voice. "Listen. Thank you for your interest in whatever happened to me, but would you please stop this Stalker vibe?"

"I assure you, Miss Stephens, I am not stalking you," Sherlock said. His deep blue eyes stared back at Alene, just as defensively as her stance.

"No, no, no. First you figure out by deduction what my career is, then you somehow find out I was in a bomb explosion and come to my hospital room, and now you scare the living bejesus out of us at my workplace? Definitely not stalking me at all." Alene just stared back at Sherlock as if it was a staring contest.

"Alright, that's enough," Becky finally said. "You, go home Mr. Stalker." Becky pushed Sherlock out the door, who started to protest against it, but was pushed hard enough to be just outside the door without him being slammed in the face with a door.

A pound came from the door. "Miss Stephens!" a muffled voice called out.

"Ignore him, Honey," Becky said. "And here I thought you were gonna need help catching some men."

Alene only gave Becky a dirty look.

Sherlock's POV

What the hell was he thinking? Sherlock, the most stubborn arsehole anyone would have the misfortune of meeting seems defeated almost every time when he tries to get any sort of information from Alene Stephens. He was even the slightest bit _polite _to her. He could have just kept talking despite Alene's anger. He could have even waited by that door. They would've had to come out eventually. But no.

An hour later Sherlock Holmes was standing outside the HEXA parking lot, waiting for a cab.

Sherlock didn't even like Stephens. Just because she had more intellectual compacity than half of the whole street, she was very different than Sherlock. Sherlock shook his head, fed up with waiting on a cab when he could call John just as easily.

Taking out his phone, he texted John.

\- Outside HEXA parking lot. -SH

After a couple minutes passed, Sherlock texted him again. Still no response. Sherlock shook his head. _Damn it, John. _

"Detective!" a voice called out from behind him. Alene Stephens. "Need a ride?" She pointed to the taxi she was standing next to.

Just a little thankful that Alene was there, Sherlock took his chance now. "221B Baker street," he said to the cab driver as he got in.

Alene followed. "Same, please," she said. Alene glanced at Sherlock, who was looking out of the window. She immediately looked down, after, paying attention to her phone, trying to use the camera to rub off the remaining black soot on her face.

The two stayed silent the whole drive.

When they finally got out, Alene stopped Sherlock right before he entered his flat. "Sorry about today," she said, a bit quieter than she'd expected.

Sherlock furrowed his brows. "What on earth for?"

"For being an ass to you and for overreacting. It's not very neighborly. You know? I never let you finish talking, Mr. Stalker," Alene smiled.

For a second, Sherlock seemed to smile too, but entered the flat quickly leaving Alene on the street.

Sherlock ran up the stairs calling for John. "John? John?"

John finally came running out of one of the rooms. "What is it?"

"You didn't answer your phone."

John rolled his eyes, just the slightest fed up with Sherlock. "You have a phone. You could call a cab. You don't need me to pick you up after every bloody murder investigation. I was taking care of Rosie anyway, who is now awake because of you."

"Not a murder investigation. The investigation of what HEXA's plans really are."

"Sherlock, not now. I'm tired."

Sherlock now realized the growing bags under John's eyes from sleepless nights. He looked down to the ground. "Yeah. Erm – sorry," he said.

John looked up in surprise, but then turned around. "All right. Then let me sleep."

It was only 7 o'clock and looked absolutely whipped. "Fine," Sherlock said, a bit sourly. He paced around the apartment. _John could move if he really wanted. He didn't have to move back in after – well after the whole Eurus incident. _

Sherlock plopped himself down in his chair, picking up the same news article about HEXA, trying to decipher all that he could. Now he knows Alene works as a scientist in their Bio-Tech department, which, for some reason he couldn't deduce before, and he knows that Bio-Tech is interested in the most intellectual people they can get their hands on.

A small text alert came from Sherlock's phone. It was another article over the head of HEXA.

"Mr. Alex Lee-Yu," Sherlock mumbled to himself. "Founded HEXA for research in Bio-Tech advancements, hoping to solve world medical problems by combining new technology with biology. After the succession of the start of the new company, American and British special units became more interested in the experiments taking place inside the walls of HEXA. Mr. Lee-Yu finally signed an agreement with both federal agencies allowing them to document and conduct their own experiments using the Bio-Tech produced by the company. Both the British and Americans have found great uses of the company and invested more money into the unit. As of now, no more information of this establishment have been found."

Sherlock smiled. Finally, some more clues. If both the British and Americans were invested into this program, the benefits of the advancements could possibly be for the formation of new bio-weapons. Of course, this was a problematic theory. If they were to create bio-weapons they wouldn't be working together, so it must be something else. But what?

Alene's POV

Alene sat on her bed, scrolling through her Instagram feed. Though she only had three followers (Becky, her cat, and her other account), she followed over 200,000 people. A small notification came up. A message from Becky. Alene smiled.

B-Why in the hell did you let Stalker in your car?

A-Not my car. Not only that but it looked like he was worried.

B-Man. For someone as nerdy as you, you sure are nice.

A-What's that supposed to mean? :I Nerds can be nice! We can have people skills!

B-Unlike Mr. Stalker.

Alene laughed.

A-LOL.I called him that before he entered his flat.

B-Oh…so making friends, now are we? What was his reaction?

A-IDK. Sherlock… like you said has poor people skills. I doubt he even got the joke.

B-Huh.

A-Yep…

B-so.

A-so.

B-See you tomorrow?

A-Yep. This time I'll try not to get blown up.

B-Yeah. DON'T BE LATE!

A-UGH IT WASN'T mY FaULt!

Alene looked back at her screen. Becky left the chat. That's ok. Isolation was good once in a while.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - This is a lengthier one but is so far my favourite chapter. I don't own any part of the Sherlock franchise/series/characters, so with that said, please enjoy. Reviews/comments are always appreciated.**

Part 5

Alene wiggled inside her covers, wrapping a blanked around herself making a blanket cocoon while she scrolled through her Netflix feed.

"Finished that…and that…and that…" Alene mumbled to herself. "Oh, what's this? A new season?" Alene looked at her dim phone screen, squinting. "Only 10 eps, I can finish it tonight."

Then a knock came from her door.

_Really? Now?_

Alene glanced over at her clock. 7:30 pm. Not quite 8. Alene had a rule that if anyone comes to her door past 8 in the evening, she had every right to scare them off by rambling on about how she wasn't in the mood because she still had years to come until the next season of her absolute favorite show would come out and how she was literally going crazy and hallucinating her own episodes.

Yes… this is partly true. Alene could swear she is _dying _to get a new season. Unfortunately, the stranger is 30 minutes early so he won't get the whole lecture about how there should already be another season, and that means no sarcasm, no rudeness. Just the sweet and loving side of Alene Stephens.

Alene got up and cracked the door open.

"Who's there?"

"Miss Stephens," a voice came.

_Ugh. It's probably some lady trying to sell me perfumes. _

"Pardon me ma'am, but it's 7:30 in the evening and I had already started Netflixing, and when you start Netflixing there is no room for interruptions and distractions," Alene said. _Maybe he was about to get a nice little spiel. _

"Excuse me?" the lady asked. Alene opened the door a little more. The lady wore a dark colored pan suit. All Alene knew was that is was an expensive one at that. She held a small phone which she didn't seem to look up from.

More reason to rant.

"Netflixing. The act of watching an entire season of a show in one sitting, usually occurring late at night and ending early in the morning," Alene smiled. "Society should use this term more often. It's a totally valid excuse for avoiding social obligations… which means goodbye!" Alene slammed the door on the man's face. Did she feel sorry? Nope. Not one bit.

Alene sighed. Hopefully that was enough to get her to go away.

Tap. Tap. Tap_. I guess not. _

"Miss Stephens, your car is waiting for you."

_Car? What car?_

Alene opened the door a little more now, peering out into the street. A sleek black car sat right outside her door.

"I'm sorry, ma'am but you have the wrong address. This is 221C Baker street."

Alene almost shut the door again, but the lady called out, "Oh, my boss never makes a mistake."

Alene shook her head. "Sorry. I don't know who you are or who you work for so let me put this nicely. Go. Away."

The woman frowned, but her eyes were still glued to her screen. It looked as though she was texting someone, with her thumbs moving up and down across the bottom of the screen.

"The car will be waiting for you."

Alene rolled her eyes. "Fine. Just wait a second. Let me go change," Alene said, slamming the door again. That lady won't leave her alone. Will she?

Alene quickly changed into something more suitable. She had no idea where she was about to go, so she made sure to grab a jacket with extra pockets, stuffing safety pins and a gun in her pocket before doing a bit of touch up on her hair.

Alene opened the door and found the lady was still standing on her porch, unmoved.

"Where exactly am I going?" Alene asked as she slid into the back seat of the car, which was lavishly furnished with seats comfortable enough to sleep in.

The unknown secretary lady didn't respond.

"O.K. then," Alene said making a popping sound with her mouth, then closed her eyes despite it being quite a while until she would normally go to sleep.

When Alene opened her eyes again, the car was parked next to a large factory like building. The door was opened, and the secretary lady was standing outside the car.

"So. What's here that's so important. You know, I could have had a great Netflixing session tonight."

The lady only pointed to the building.

"No way am I going in that abandoned unit! I might get tetanus!"

The lady rolled her eyes. "He's waiting for you in there."

"He? He as in your boss?" Alene looked around. "Yes. Go ahead and sit there on your phone. I wasn't talking to you anyway." Alene sighed. She was officially going insane because no sane person would walk into an abandoned unit in a foreign place to meet up with some guy who you've never met and didn't know a scrap about him.

Alene always knew she wasn't sane. That's why she was walking into the strange abandoned building to meet a random dude. Yep.

Her footsteps echoed as she entered the building. Old concrete walls and pillars surrounded her with a high ceiling. A few lights lit the place up, but other than that, the place was empty.

"Hello, Miss Stephens," a voice echoed out.

"Who's there?" Alene asked, cautiously. This surprisingly but not surprisingly wasn't her first time in a situation like this.

"Alene Jane Stephens, American scientist with two PhDs in biology and chemistry, a history with engineering and robotics along with firearm and martial arts training," the voice said. "From what I've read, you also have a pretty dark past."

"And how is it you know this? Some assassin from a secret agency trying to take me out. Well, if you are, believe me honey I could squash you like a bug." Alene reached for her gun.

"I've been watching you, Alene Stephens."

"Perv," Alene scoffed.

Soon footsteps emerged from in front of her and a tall man in a suit came walking towards her. He carried a black umbrella and a small notebook from which he read from.

Alene held her gun up and stood in a ready to fire position.

"Stop right there!" Alene commanded. "I thought I had already put an end to this," Alene mumbled under her breath.

"You moved from Los Angeles last week to London for a job opportunity with HEXA as a Bio-Tech employee. Now, what does HEXA really want from you?"

Alene, now able to see the man's face, looked up at him, but kept her gun firm in her hand.

"Did your mom ever tell you it is rude and just plain creepy to stalk a lady, and especially dangerous when that lady happens to be me?" Alene asked.

"Put the gun down, Miss Stephens. I know you won't actually shoot me."

BANG.

The man blinked. "Like I said. You wouldn't actually shoot me."

Alene watched as the can she shot fly up into the air and then skid across the concrete floor.

"Good shot," the man said.

Alene relaxed her stance, pointing her gun to the floor now.

"What the hell do you want?"

"So, you're not going to ask me who I am? How unusual. It's what most people ask the first time they meet me."

"First of all, I'm not most people," Alene said, glowering at the man. "Second of all, do you do this to all the people you meet?"

The man stayed quiet.

"Well you must have a lot of friends," Alene said.

"And you do, Miss Stephens?"

"Excuse me?"

"You seem to have a, lets say record of people rejecting you."

"Woah there. Back off and stay out of my love life!" Alene stood there, staring back at the man.

He leaned on his umbrella. "I don't mean your love life, Miss Stephens-"

Alene just shook her head. "Okay fine. Hold on a sec," she said, interrupting him. "I'm going to be like most people, for just a second. Who the hell are you?"

"Sherlock told me you had good deductions skills. Seems like he's wrong like always," the man said.

Alene furrowed her eyebrows as she watched the man look down. "Sherlock? You mean Sherlock Holmes?"

"How many other Sherlock's could there be?"

Alene finally smiled in realization. _How could she be so blind? _"You must be big brother."

The man just stared back at Alene. "I would advise you to stay away from that man. He's nothing but trouble."

"Believe me, Mr. Holmes, he seems more interested in me than I him."

"So I've noticed."

Alene headed towards the exit, still holding her gun. "Oh, yeah. If you want more friends, I would advise you not to have people meet you in a suspicious abandoned building. Doesn't give you a good vibe."

With that, Alene was out the door, leaving Mycroft to himself.

Alene walked up to 221B baker street, knocking on the door. Sherlock or John must still be up. It's only 8:15.

The door swung open and there she saw Mrs. Hudson again. "Hello, Miss Stephens. Didn't expect you to be dropping by." The older lady smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"Is Sherlock available?" Alene asked.

"Yes. He's just upstairs," Mrs. Hudson said. "Come in, come in."

Alene smiled at the landlady then quickly went up the steps, careful to not make too much noise. Alene figured Rosie would already be asleep.

"Detective?" Alene asked. Alene looked around the room seeing Sherlock sitting in the chair next to the window, cross legged with his eyes closed and his hands held together.

"Detective?"

Sherlock's eyes abruptly opened. "Ah. Miss Stephens." Sherlock glanced at her hand. "What are you doing here?"

Alene looked down, noticing she was still holding her gun. She shook her head stuffing the gun in her back pocket. "So. I've met you're brother."

"Oh. Yes. Him. Sometimes I forget he exists. Explains the gun."

"He seems… well he seems more like a stalker than you, Detective."

"Yes. So what are you doing here in my flat?" Sherlock asked sounding like the most unamused human being Alene had ever heard.

Alene shook her head. _What was she doing here?_ "He said you were-"

"Never mind that," Sherlock said, now getting up. "What can you tell me about HEXA?"

Alene rolled her eyes. "That they're employees don't like talking to men who are ungentlemanly to ladies. Though, I guess everyone really has warned me about your… lack of people skills."

"Like you're any better at them than me," Sherlock sighed.

Alene scoffed. "I don't know anything about HEXA. It's only been my first day working there and my best friend who has been working there for god knows how long doesn't even know the full truth about what they actually work on."

"Then why are you working there?" Sherlock asked, sitting back down after grabbing a cup.

"Good pay." Alene doesn't add in the part that no other company would ever take her anyway, but she can see that Sherlock knows she's not telling the full truth.

"You're lying."

"Am not!"

Sherlock scoffed and Alene crossed her arms.

"What was that act?" Sherlock finally asked.

"Act?"

"You were acting very polite when you first met me and John. Why not with Mycroft? Why not with his secretary?"

"First of all, it was my choice to say hello to you. Your brother however didn't give me a good first impression. Also, I wasn't in the mood for social activity let alone trying to be prepared to face the worst," said Alene. She looked down a little bit. She didn't like that Sherlock stared directly at her.

"You were preparing for the worst. What do you mean?" Sherlock queried.

Alene wasn't sure what to say. Luckily, Mrs. Hudson came in with a steaming pot of tea and a mug.  
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson. You didn't have to," Alene said, taking the opportunity to change the subject.

"Well you looked like you needed it. Nothing like a nice cuppa and biscuit after being in the cold." Mrs. Hudson handed Alene a warm cup and a small round 'biscuit'.

"Thank you," Alene smiled.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Mrs. Hudson, we have important things to tend to. I don't know why you are being so kind to Miss Stephens. We get it. She moved in. That's old news."

"Sherlock. Be nice," Mrs. Hudson said then strolled out of the room.

"So, back to my-"

"Violin," Alene said.

"Yes Miss Stephens. It's a violin. Now, back to my-"

"Its very beautiful," Alene said admiring the violin. Though it wasn't new looking, the polish on it still made it shine and the violin looked like it was well kept. Alene gave a sad smile. "My mother taught me how to play. I still remember a little bit, but I've forgotten most of what she had taught me."

"Huh," Sherlock managed to say.

"I knew it was you who played the violin, but now that I can see some of your music, you seem like you know what your doing. You don't look like a high school band/orchestra type of person so I'm going to guess you learned from someone in your family too."

Sherlock just looked at Alene, and then with a strange look, he yelled, "Get down!"

Alene did what he said the moment it came out of his mouth, but of course her stupid brain took a second to process what he had said before her reflexes kicked in. Only a second. That second caused a searing pain in her arm.

Soon she could hear a loud round of gunfire sound off, shattering the windows and making papers fly in the air. Sherlock and Alene crawled as fast as they could out the door into the hall.

"Lousy aim!" Alene called out to the shooter(s). "Damn it!"

Sherlock and Alene looked around when they heard another round hit, this time making tiny holes in the wall. Sherlock pulled Alene to the floor again, but then Alene realized something. John and Rosie were still in the building.

"SHitT! CrAP! HOLy effing HELL!" Alene cried as she stood up, trying to dodge bullets as the ripped through the windows, trying to make her way back upstairs where she saw John carrying Rosie.

"Miss Stephens!" Sherlock shouted over the gunfire.

"Detective, Doctor!" Alene shouted. "Call the police!" Alene then started to run to the door, covering her head and pulling her gun out from her pocket.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing Stephens?" Sherlock asked.

"Leading them away," Alene mumbled.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - Still don't own any part of the Sherlock franchise/series/characters. So yep. Enjoy! Comments and Reviews are always appreciated!**

Part 6

"Miss Stephens!" John called out, holding Rosie away from the gunfire.

"So sorry to the two of you!" Alene said, and with that, she bolted out of the door and down the street.

"We follow her, right?" John asked.

"No, John. I do," Sherlock said, as the hail of bullets directed to on the street. "Keep Rosie safe!" Sherlock said, bolting out the door as well, chasing after Alene.

It was evident the attack was an attempt to kill Alene, and not Sherlock, but the question was, why Alene? What had Alene done to have a bounty on her head? Catching up to Alene, Sherlock looked ahead of him.

"Stephens! Ahead!" Sherlock said, pointing to a sniper up on the roof.

The two slipped behind a parked car for shelter.

"What the hell are you doing, Detective?" Another round of bullets were being shot at them. "They're after me, not you!"

"I need you for questioning!" Sherlock said.

Alene gave a light smile, but then turned around, aiming her gun at the sniper.

BANG. BANG.

Sherlock turned to see that the sniper wasn't on the ground, but his gun was, laying at the sidewalk.

"Amateurs," Alene said.

Sherlock pulled out his own gun, firing where the hail of bullets were coming from taking out the other sniper.

"There!" Alene pointed at the other one, still alive.

Sherlock aimed the gun, but Alene quickly pulled his arm down letting the sniper get out of sight.

"Stephens! Why the bloody hell would you do that?"

"Because I am not a killer. I only defend myself," Alene said.

"That man probably has another weapon on him. Not just the gun."

"Then we find him before he finds us," Alene said, then darted off to the building.

"How do you know how to shoot so well?" Sherlock asked as they ran up the flight of stairs.

"I'll tell you later."

"No you won't."

"Yeah, no I won't."

Alene and Sherlock got up to the rooftop but found the sniper had already gone.

"How did he get away so fast?" Alene asked, taking a deep breath in. "We should have passed him if he took the stairs.

"_If _he took the stairs," Sherlock said, looking around.

"How else could he gotten down?" Alene asked, looking around.

They were eight stories up. There was no way he would've been able to get down safely. Alene frowned. "This is the part where I usually find the guy and turn him in," Alene said softly. "Bugger."

"Yes, Miss. Stephens. This is why we don't just let criminals get away," Sherlock said, turning to Alene, but Alene's face had gone completely pale.

"You know, Detective, I'm feeling a bit…woozy," Alene said before her eyes shut and her body fell to the ground. Her left arm and her hands were red with blood. It looked like she had managed to make a small tourniquet around the wound, but it didn't seem to stop enough of the blood.

Sherlock watched as blue and red lights flashed below them, lighting the street up on the darkness. A small sound of footsteps sounded from behind Sherlock.

"Is she alright?" John asked, bending down by Alene, checking her pulse and applying a little bit of pressure on her wound. "The medics should be up here any minute."

Sherlock shook his head. "I never texted you we were up here."

"Alene did," John said.

"How long ago?"

"20 minutes ago."

Sherlock sighed, not sure what to think. _She knew what was going to happen before she made it to the apartment. _

Alene opened her eyes, glancing over to her side hooked up to her old friend, yet again.

"You know I've been in here twice in one day," Alene said. Then she looked at the time. 9:35 PM. "Doctor, why didn't I wake up sooner?"

John looked at Alene. "You're lucky to have survived."

_Pfft. _"Doctor, unless I had an extreme amount of blood loss, I should have been up in a matter of minutes," Alene said. "Not hours. This isn't some medical drama TV show."

John laughed at that. "You were hit in two spots. You took care of the one, but not the other. I'm surprised you didn't feel it or pass out earlier."

Alene looked at her arm, then moved around causing her to wince in pain. _God damn leg. I forgot to check my leg. _"Must have been the adrenalin rush keeping me from feeling it, keeping me going."

"I suppose so. Until then, you rest," John said.

"Is the IV necessary?"

"God you sound like Sherlock," John said, then exited the room.

Alene sighed. At least now she could be Netflixing in peace.

"I don't bloody understand, though Sherlock," John said, drinking a cup of coffee.

Both Sherlock and John felt as though they had a long night and needed the caffeine in the morning.

"Don't understand what?"

"Why the bloody hell you aren't closer friends with her."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and scoffed, sipping at his coffee as he read through the paper.

"What? I'm just saying you are utterly similar. I mean… she predicted what was going to happen and is savvy with a gun," John said, setting down his mug.

"I did a better job," Sherlock said. "Deducing what would happen. I deduced your exact moves two weeks before hand."

"You also got played by Mrs. Hudson," John said. "Look, I'm just saying maybe you should start finding more friends."

Sherlock looked up at John, puzzled. "Friends? I've got you. Isn't that enough. I've got Molly too! And Giles!"

"Greg. His name's Greg."

"Lestrade. Whatever. See. I have friends," Sherlock said, frowning a bit.

"Oh and don't forget your skull and violin," John said crossing his arms. "I think you two could become real good friends, Sherlock, honestly I do. I mean you seemed impressed when you first met her." John looked around the room. Papers and shards of glass still littered the floor.

"That was when I met her. I just didn't expect it," Sherlock protested.

"Wow. The great Sherlock Holmes didn't see it coming?"

"Shut up, John!" Sherlock said, taking out his violin.

"I'm going out!" John said, as he started out the door. "I'll stop by the hospital to see if Alene's okay."

"Fine." Sherlock looked out the window as he played his violin. _Why did he even run after Stephens when he didn't even care for the girl that much?_

Hospitals are a pain in the ass to try to get out of. It's like you can't just walk out because there is _always _some sort of deranged nurse or doctor in the hall that will stop you and ask where you are going. Even if you say you are going to the front desk to sign out, they escort you making sure you fill out every page of paperwork.

Every. Effing. Page.

When they finally agreed to release Alene, she literally ran as fast as she could to the bus stop (it was really painful, but worth getting away from the dreadful place).

All of the people on the bus stared at Alene when they noticed her bloody bandages and clothes. She probably needed to change them before her wounds got infected.

That's another thing. Alene knew that unless you took the bullet out, the wound would get infected, but Alene could have just as easily taken it out, sparing the pain because those god damn nurses sure as hell can't pull out a bullet right.

It didn't matter though. It was over for now and Alene could rest. Tugging on a hoodie (reading: "Fluent in movie quotes, song lyrics, and sarcasm) which was, by the way, her favorite hoodie of all time and a pair of grey sweatpants.

Alene sat down on her bed as Crookshanks curled up by her feet.

"Rough times, ain't it, Crooksies."

BEEP. BUZZ. BEEP.

A message from Becky.

-Girl. What did you do?

Alene smiled.

-Nothing. I swear.

-Then WTH is with the boss saying you are exempted from work today?

-I'm injured. In shock.

-What?

-….

-U ok?

-I'm fine. I got shot. That's all.

-You crazy.

-Yep. That's me. Becky Rose's crazy ass friend.

-Hahaha. Ok. Enough joking. You gonna get fired if you keep this up.

-And miss out on all the fun?

-Get outta her. See you soon.

-Bye

-See ya, Al.

Alene looked around her room. Becky wasn't wrong. She could be fired for missing so many days of work and for causing major disruption in the city. Then again, where's all the fun when you don't have crazy assassins trying to murder your ass all the time?

A knock came from her door.

Limping her way to the door, Alene called out, "Unless you are considered a friend by me, then go away. I'm not in the mood for social activity. I've already done five minutes of it today!"

"How about a neighbor?"

_The Detective._

Alene opened the door a little to see Sherlock Holmes standing outside her door wearing his usual dark blue overcoat and blue scarf.

"What are you doing here? I thought you weren't really the emotions type," Alene said. "Oh. I understand. Did the Doctor ask you to do this?" Alene asked.

Sherlock gave a weak smile.

"Well, you're here anyway, so come on in," Alene said.

Sherlock came in, looking around the flat.

"Not exactly what I expected," he finally said, looking around at the bare walls and the leak stains on the ceiling.

"Yeah. It's a bit of a fixer upper, but it's dead cheap so what does it matter," Alene said, limping over to Sherlock.

"Is it really that bad?" Sherlock asked, looking at her leg.

"No. I just want to pretend to limp and bite my tongue in pain because it's fun."

Sherlock looked at the dark haired girl.

"Doctor said I should be using crutches, but honestly I'm fine with just sitting in my room and eating ramen until I die from a heart attack," Alene joked.

Sherlock seemed to not respond, but Alene could tell Sherlock thought it was amusing.

"Yes. Well. We wouldn't want that, now would we Miss Stephens?" Sherlock said. "I wondered if you wanted to come with me to meet up with a friend. I think you might like her. You know. We could act like a normal human for a little…whatever that is."

"Sounds boring," Alene said then laughed.

"Indeed it does." Sherlock kept staring at Alene until she looked up at him, which he then turned his head away. "So. Do you want to?"

"Sure. Why not?" Alene said, then headed out the door.

"I just got out of a damn hospital. Why would I want to go back?" Alene complained.

"What is with you and hospitals?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing. They're just a pain in the butt if you know what I mean."

The two walked into the hospital, Sherlock leading Alene up to the mortuary.

"How are your forensic skills, Miss Stephens?" Sherlock asked, opening the door to the mortuary.

"A bit rusty," Alene said.

There the two met a young woman with brownish red hair tied up into a sleek pony and a white lab coat. It reminded her of the HEXA lab coats. The lady stood there, examining a body, when she noticed Sherlock and Alene standing at the door.

"Sherlock," she said, smiling. Then she looked at Alene and nodded her head. "Who's this?"

"Someone who is dead awful at forensics," Sherlock said.

Did Sherlock just use a pun? Was that an attempt at a joke?

"Hey! I never said I was awful," Alene protested. "I'm Alene Stephens, by the way. You are?"

"Molly Hooper," the lady said, smiling.

"Nice to meet you," Alene said. "Sherlock said the two of you are good friends."

Molly blushed a little bit. "Of course. I help him sometimes with bodies on his cases."

"We were wondering if you wanted to have lunch with us, Molly," Sherlock said a bit awkwardly. It was evident that this wasn't normal for Sherlock to just ask people to go to lunch with him, casually.

"Erm, sure," said Molly, also aware that Sherlock was acting strange.

The three of them squeezed in the back seat of a cab with Molly on the far right, Sherlock on the left, and Alene in the middle.

"Sorry you've got stuck in the middle," Molly said.

Alene laughed. "Oh no, it's fine, Miss Hooper."

"Molly, please." Molly smiled and looked out the window as they passed through the busy streets of London.

"So why are we doing this, Sherlock?" Molly finally asked. "Where are we even going. You _never _ask to go out to lunch with someone. Hey? Where's John? "

Sherlock just stared out the window with no smile or emotion.

"Okay then," Molly said making a clicking sound.

The three stayed awkwardly silent. Even for Alene this was quite odd and that's coming from someone who doesn't mind not being sociable with other people. Molly didn't seem to fancy it either, looking out the window and fiddling with her hands.

When the cab stopped, the three got out standing outside a small bakery. From the outside you could already faintly smell the scent of vanilla and chocolate along with a fresh pastry smell. The place seemed crowded for how small the building actually was.

Inside, the place had a small fireplace with a fire burning and the sound of voices talking filled the small room. It was warm and comfortable.

Sherlock walked up to the counter. "Erm. Hello. Three coffees, I believe," he said. "Miss Stephens, Molly?"

Alene hobbled over to the counter. What in the world was Sherlock doing? "Uh, yes," she mumbled looking at the beautifully laid out deserts in the display case. "A coconut crème puff, please."

The woman working at the counter gave a fake smile and then asked Molly to come up.

"Chocolate eclair, please."

"You, sir?" the woman at the counter asked. It was evident she didn't want to be at work today.

"That's all," Sherlock said, politely but still didn't give a smile.

When their food was done, they found a small round table in the corner of the bakery where no one else really sat.

"So. What are we really doing, now?" Alene asked, stuffing the coconut desert in her mouth. _Delicious! _"Oh my god, these are good."

Alene couldn't help it. Food was her weak point. If you put up a sign that said free burgers on a creepy ass van, you could bet Alene would at least check it out.

"Yeah. Why are we doing this, Sherlock?" Molly asked sipping a bit of coffee.

Sherlock shook his head. "I really couldn't say," he mumbled.

"What?"

"I thought it would be . . . nice?" Sherlock said, looking around the café.

"I'm sorry. Did you say 'nice'?" Molly asked.

"Yeah. Never trying this again," Sherlock said a little too sourly. He then took a long sip at his coffee, staring out at the window.

Alene laughed a little at that. "You just need to plan it out a little better, maybe. Though, don't take my advice. I'm not really the most sociable person in the world."

Sherlock looked at Alene. "What do you mean? You have friends."

"I have one. One friend," Alene said, looking down. "Sorry. That sounded too depressing and I'm not in the mood for a double depresso."

The three just sat there for the remainder of the time, finishing up their deserts and sipping the last bit of coffee.

Molly returned back to St. Bards hospital and Sherlock and Alene rode back to 221B.

"This was the Doctor's idea, wasn't it?" Alene asked as they drove back.

"Yeah. Sometimes I don't know why I listen to him."

"You know, you complement each other so well," Alene said. She looked at Sherlock who continued to stare out the window silently.

"What about your friend. The Bio-Tech scientist at HEXA?" Sherlock asked.

"Becky? We've been friends ever since I was in fifth grade and I attended a STEM camp with her back in California. She was 4 years older than me, but we always seemed to be together whenever we could. We would make small robotic machines in her garage. I would build it and she would program it."

The two stayed silent again. Usually Alene would try to cheer up the place with one of her lousy jokes or make a sarcastic remark, but instead she just stayed silent listening to the hum of the cab as it drove down the street.

Alene made her way back to her own flat and sat down. Crookshanks crawled behind her as she sat down on her couch, turning on the TV.

The tv reporter stood just outside central London's bridge.

"Breaking news!" The reporter said. "Renowned scientist Dr. Lee-Yu, founder of HEXA Inc. has recently found dead in the river after supposedly jumping off of the bridge. Police have confirmed this was a suicide. HEXA co-CEO says that this is a detrimental loss to their company and this death means more than anything to the board of HEXA. Lee-Yu was more than a renowned scientist to his colleagues, but also a dear friend. More on this after five."

All Alene could think is why is this happening to me?


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

"Mr. Holmes! Over here Mr. Holmes, sir!" A large man with a big camera stood on the sidewalk beyond the police tape along with multiple other reporters with cameras and microphones, broadcasting to the world that Dr. Lee-Yu was dead.

Sherlock and John walked around the crime scene. John stumbled around trying to find someone with more information about the death while Sherlock examined the cold body. The place was swarming with spectators, witnesses and the press. How convenient.

John walked up alongside Sherlock, zipping up his jacket.

"John, shut them up. I can't focus."

"Sherlock, I'm doing everything I can. Here." John handed Sherlock a small file.

"This is it?" Sherlock asked.

"All of it."

As the two walked around the body, multiple flashes lit up in the distance making loud popping noises. Cars honked and people murmured amongst themselves.

Sherlock squatted down next to the body, squinting as he took out his pocket magnifying glass, examining as much as he could.

"Check his pocket," Sherlock said aloud, then reached for the man's left side coat pocket.

"What's it say?" John asked.

"Stephens." Sherlock looked around the crowd of people. They were all going to die. "GET DOWN!" Sherlock cried.

A loud exploding sound pierced everyone's ears leaving a ringing noise once it was over. A large cloud of blackish gray smoke puffed into a large cloud over the area, leaving a haze. John coughed a bit as he stood back up, looking around.

"John, I think there's going to be more case files."

Multiple people laid on the ground, still as can be. Their chest didn't rise nor fall. They just stayed absolutely still as pools of blood surrounded them.

John moved his hand up to his head, wincing a bit.

"Are you okay?" Sherlock asked, noticing John's wound. Blood dripped from the side of John's head and soot covered his face.

John shook it off. "Yeah. I'll be fine," he said. "Sherlock, start looking for survivors."

The two looked around as a couple of ambulances and fire trucks came their way. "Two over here!" Sherlock said. John came running over, checking the people as Sherlock searched for the source of the bomb.

Lestrade walked up behind him. "What the bloody hell was that?" he asked, looking around.

"It appears to be an attempt to kill someone who was, fortunately, not here," Sherlock said, bending down looking at the ground for traces.

"Who did they mean to kill?" Lestrade asked.

"Are you going to help me find the bomb source or not?" Sherlock asked irritably.

Lestrade followed Sherlock around the bend, taking a closer look at an overturned car.

"See this ring?" Sherlock pointed to a small black ring around the car. "This suggests the bomb was set here-" Sherlock paused, looking closer. "Tricky. My, my. Our killer is smart, I can tell you that."

Lestrade shook his head. "What?"

"The bomb didn't detonate here. It only looks like it did. The real spot of our bomb is…" Sherlock's voice trailed off as he followed what seemed to be invisible tracks. "Here."

"Dead center of the crowd," Lestrade said.

"Dead center," Sherlock repeated looking at a dead body holding the detonator.

Alene's POV

Alene looked around her apartment. Everything was out of place and cluttered into boxes.

"Where did I put my damn knife?" Alene seemed to scream. She paced around the room, searching through all of her boxes. Crookshanks stood in the corner, not sure what was happening, and truthfully, Alene didn't know what was happening either.

Alene kept digging through her boxes, throwing wads of newspaper out of the unopened boxes, littering the floor with everything that she didn't find useful, which was everything, but stopped when she heard a knock at her door.

Click!

Alene loaded her gun, pushing herself against one of the walls and holding herself in a stead position. Taking a deep breath in, she waited.

WHAP.

Her door swung open violently, putting a hole in her wall.

"Hey! Asshole! You're paying for that!" Alene called out.

The figure was dressed in an all-black outfit, with a leather bomber and black jeans. The person had on a black helmet covering their face, but it didn't matter. Alene was going to end this once in for all no matter who it was.

"Put your hands up!" Alene demanded, sliding out from the wall and pointing it at the figure.

The figure only tilted their head slightly, then pulled out a gun of their own, immediately taking a shot.

The bullet brushed passed Alene, missing her by about a centimeter. Alene took a deep breath in. _God. She hated guns. _

"AGGHHH!" Alene let out a cry, running towards the figure and taking a punch at their gut, which the figure then blocked and tried for Alene's face. Alene dodged and deflected the punch, pushing the figure up against the wall. "Who the hell are you?"

The figure looked at Alene. "Is that really a concern of yours, Stephens?"

Alene let out another cry, this time hitting the figure's head. In turn, the figure threw a punch at Alene's gut, knocking the air out of Alene. Alene kicked her leg out, hitting the figure and knocking them on the ground, but the figure just bounce back up, taking a shot.

Alene ducked to the ground.

"You know I'll win this fight. There is no way around it," The figure said.

"Well, honey bug. Hate to break it to you but you know deep down that ain't true!" Alene said, then jumped up and elbowed the figure in the neck, sending them to the floor once again. Alene then took another kick to the figure and tied their hands to their back. "Ah. I missed fighting."

"Well, the war's not done," the figure said, then swung their arms around, hitting Alene in the face then bolted out the door.

Alene spit on the ground. "Looks like you forgot something!" she called out, holding up the figure's gun.

Bizz.

Alene looked down. Her phone was laying on the floor, the screen cracked in the slightest. Picking it up, she looked at the message. Unknown.

-Are you okay? -SH

The detective.

-Well, other than a masked assassin coming to my home and attacking me, I'd say I'm doing alright. You?

Alene waited a minute before a response came.

-Meet me at the London Bridge -SH

-You mean the one where Yu died?

-Where else? I thought you were smarter than this. -SH

-Well that was a low blow.

Alene tucked her phone away, looking for a bag to pack her things up in. She had to get away or she was putting other lives at risk.

Sherlock's POV

Sherlock waited with John, standing around the bridge. Everyone had already left. Bodies. Evidence. All had been packed up.

"You sure she said she was coming?" John asked Sherlock.

Sherlock shook his head. The sky had turned dark and the stars started to peek out from behind the nighttime clouds.

"Damn it," John said. "I know what she's doing. Why she's not coming."

"And why is that?" Sherlock asked.

"Because she's a stubborn arse like you," John said, picking his things up.

"Shit," Sherlock said. He knew exactly what that meant.

Sherlock waved down a cab and the two got in.

"Where do you think she's headed?" John asked.

"I don't know!" Sherlock said.

"Well you're the one whose spent all that bloody time with her!" John said.

"Yeah? Well you're the one with people skills! Where would she go?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know. You bloody tell me!"

Sherlock closed his eyes. If he what he knew about Alene was right, then he knew exactly where she would go. It was obvious. If she were on the run, she would be the type to blend in with a crowd and entirely disappear which means Sherlock had to be right. If he wasn't right, they could miss Alene entirely. They'd be searching for a person who wasn't even in the country.

"Kowalski Bakery," Sherlock told the cab driver.

"The bakery?" John asked.

"If I've learned anything about Alene is that she loves Netflix and food. The bakery would be her first stop before leaving the country."

Alene's POV

Alene found her way to a table in the corner. Even though it was dark outside, the bakery was still packed with a line of people waiting to carry out their favorite dessert. Alene stuffed a coconut desert in her mouth and gulped down some coffee, stuffing the rest of the food in her travel bag.

It didn't feel the way Alene had expected it, when you flee a country. It wasn't like how all of the movies and TV shows portrayed it. Everything just felt so surreal like she was never even going to leave. Like it was normal for a human to just randomly flee.

Keeping a watchful eye out on everyone in the bakery, Alene looked for anyone who might be armed. She wouldn't want more people to die because of her.

Taking out a small pad of paper, Alene wrote down different names of the people who were connected to the murder. God it would help to have an autopsy report.

PLOP.

Alene looked down. A small crème colored folder lay in front of her as if it had magically appeared on the table because she wanted it. She then looked up. There stood two men.

"Detective. Doctor. Didn't think you fancied desert that much."

Sherlock tilted his head at Alene. "Why didn't you come to us? You know who we are. We could've helped."

"Forget it. I've already caused enough deaths," Alene said, standing up, handing the report back to Sherlock.

"Wait, you knew about the bombing?" John asked.

"Well of course, Doctor. It's a little hard to miss when it's on the news," Alene gave a fake smile. "I knew it was a bad idea to come here. I should've never accepted the offer."

Sherlock cocked his head at Alene. "Offer? What offer?"

" The job offer. The job HEXA offered me. I guess by accepting my whereabouts become more known. It's why they've been targeting me." Alene said. She wasn't much of a crier, but she could feel her words becoming thick in her throat, burning as she tried to keep it all in. "Bad things happen when I'm around." She then pushed her way past the two.

"Miss Stephens!" John called out, but Alene had already darted outside.

Alene made her way down the sidewalk, walking as fast as she could without being noticeable. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself in a crowded area. As she walked away, she could here the patter of feet following her trail.

"Damn it, Detective," Alene muttered. Quickly looking for an escape route, she paced into an ally way and made her way down that direction, hoping they wouldn't follow.

Climbing up and over a fence, she quickly made her way through and hurried on her way, waving down the nearest cab.

"Airport," Alene said to the cab driver, and off to the airport she went.

John tapped Sherlock on the arm and pointed to a black cab. "There!"

The two ran after the car, but the car was too fast and the traffic too much.

"Cut over here! Come one John!" Sherlock said.

Bizz. Bizz.

Alene looked down at her phone. It was a text from Becky.

-Hey, Whatcha doing?

-Nothing. Netflixing.

Alene lied. She wasn't going to worry Becky with her problems. Not again. Not after the other incident in California. Not after the danger she has been putting on everyone ever since she came to London.

-Oh. Lucky. I'm finishing up paperwork right now. Tell me when that arm and leg of yours gets better. Maybe we can go hang out or something.

-Yeah. That would be nice, wouldn't it?

-Al. Tell me what's going on.

-WDYM

-I know when you're lying.

-I ain't lying.

Alene looked down at her phone. Becky seemed to take a long time to send the next text.

-Look, Alene. I don't know what you're actually doing or what's happening, but you know you don't have to face it alone. I know you probably think you are protecting everyone but you're not. Running away just made things worse.

-No. Last time I stayed and that's what killed my family. _I _am the reason my family is dead. I am the reason _my friends_ died.

-No. No you are not.

-Becky. Just. Go away.

Alene could almost hear Becky sigh.

-Fine. Then what are you going to do next? Disappear for two years? Pretend you're dead?

-Just. Stop. I don't need help. I CAN do this on my own.

-You know, you are the most stubborn person I have ever met.

-Aww. Thank you! That means a lot! 3

-Don't die.

-I won't.

-Just one more thing –

Alene shut her phone off. She never cared for those soppy human feelings. Not anymore, at least. Everyone always say that those human emotions are what makes a person strong. Well, they're all wrong. Those emotions are what killed everyone she cared for and after that, she vowed never to care for another again.

Stepping out of the car, the cool evening wind caught her face, blowing her hair all around. She looked around at the busy airport, a place where there would never not be people around. Great.

All sorts of people, alone or with a family, roamed around the gigantic building carrying large bundles of things in their bags. Small children looked all around, excited to be here as the adults hunched over, tired and exhausted.

Despite it being crowded, people kept their voices to a minimum, either afraid they would miss their flight or that other people would be snooping around in their business. Alene would be the second person. Right now, she could just use a relaxation time where no one was in any sort of close proximity to her.

Walking up to the front desk, Alene looked down. "Any flights to Tokyo, Japan?" Alene asked.

"Well of course, Miss Stephens, where do you think you are? A restaurant?" A deep voice came.

Alene looked up. To her surprise, but not really that surprised, she saw Sherlock standing behind the counter, dressed up in a blue uniform with a red trim.

"Really?" Alene asked. "I think you could've gone better in one of those black uniforms, honestly," she joked, giving a genuine light smile.

"Yes, but we both know blue is more of my colour preference, Miss Stephens." Sherlock looked at Alene, then hopped over the counter.

"Why are you trying to stop me?" Alene asked, moving over to a more secluded area.

"Why didn't you come to us before leaving?" Sherlock asked in protest.

"Jesus! I just met you, what … like yesterday?"

"Touché," said Sherlock. "You still knew it was an option. We could have helped you. It's what we do."

"An option. Yes. But does that mean the best option?" Alene looked down. "Look. I vowed to myself not to get close to anyone-"

"What about miss Rose?"

"She's different. She knows that danger follows in my footsteps, but when I become a threat to other people I don't even know, it's a different game."

Sherlock and Alene just stood there.

"You just…don't understand. I have to do this to protect everyone else."

Sherlock gave Alene a funny look.

"What?" Alene asked.

"It's funny because I recall another person in your shoes doing the exact same thing you're doing, granted she did get a little further than you did, but nevertheless."

Alene shook her head. "Yeah, well did she feel the pressure of knowing she was responsible for other people's death. For her own family's death? He own friends?" Alene raised her voice, disregarding the people who were starting to stare.

"I'm afraid not. But I do. Understand, that is," Sherlock said quietly, unlike any other time Alene had heard him speak. It was quieter and gentler.

Alene shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - you know. I'll say it again, I'm not too good with human emotions. I'm sorry."

Sherlock looked up and then around the room. "Well that makes two of us."

"Yes, Detective, I think that does," Alene said, looking around. "Don't think you changed my mind, though. I'm still getting a ticket to Japan, whether you like it or not. Whether anyone likes it or not. I could really care less," Alene paused. "Just not tonight."

Alene grinned then gave Sherlock a light hug. Sherlock, not expecting it, stood where he was. Too be honest, Alene wasn't even expecting it either. Immediately letting go, Alene cleared her throat. "Timing."

"Yep. Timing," Sherlock agreed. Then looked down. "Now, really important question," he said with a grim voice. Alene looked up. "Are you really going to keep calling me 'Detective'?"

Alene smiled. "Are you going to keep calling me miss Stephens?"

"What else am I supposed to call you?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, I mean, I do have a first name."

"_You _don't even call my by any of my names!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"Oh, so you wouldn't mind me calling you William?" Alene asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Where did you get that name?"

"Lets just say I'm a very nosey person."

The two walked out of the airport and back to Baker street. For now, Alene would be staying and that alone would be a win for both Alene and Sherlock.


	8. Chapter 8

**This is a bit longer than the other chapters, but it's a little more fun and light hearted. I have finally decided that - well you'll see. Sorry I haven't posted for this story in a while. I mean, I had this chapter written ages ago, just never posted it, so here it is. *I don't own any of the characters other than the OC, and even still. Anyways. Comments/reviews are always appreciated.**

Part 8

Alene sat on her bed, tucking herself under the covers and around her head, popping some earbuds into her ears and turning on some relaxing piano covers. The darkness of her room almost brought a comforting feel, and deep inside, she knew it was because she was truly where she was supposed to be; 221C Baker street. From the water stained ceilings, to the odd neighbors, she was here to stay for a long time to come.

Waking up to the sound of her blaring alarm clock, Alene looked around. Her leg had been healing, along with her arm. The swelling had gone away, and the coloration of her skin had gone back to its usual light brown tone. She honestly felt like she could go back to work. She had done enough sitting around…well not all of it was sitting around, but still. She wanted to get away from her problems and get on with the real reason she came to London. Not only that but popping by to give Becky a nice surprise that she didn't leave London was probably something she needed to do.

Looking in her mirror, she quickly brushed her hair and got dressed into a gray graphic tee reading: Sarcasm Loading… 73%. Then she slipped a light jacket over and pulled up some jeans. The lab coat always seemed to compliment graphic tees and jeans.

Grabbing her purse, she slid outside and waited for a taxi. For some reason she felt an odd sense of bliss, knowing she would carry on her normal routine without the drama. Of course, Alene knew it wouldn't be long until another depresso moment came along, so she had to make the best of it now or never.

Alene liked the 'now' idea more than the 'never'.

It was odd because even the boring taxi ride felt pretty O.K. for a cab ride. The driver was genuinely nice AND she didn't explode, so that's a good note.

Waltzing in the HEXA lobby, she greeted the AI secretary/desk (not person, person) and went on back to lab. Slipping through the lab doors, she quietly entered the room, watching as Becky carefully studied and placed a small piece of nano-tech onto a small specimen.

Usually Alene would jump up and down with glee with Becky and Becky would give her the "I told you so," speech, but not right now. The work Becky was doing must be really important because otherwise, she wouldn't have her tongue tipping out or her lab goggles on, so instead, Alene simply grabbed a lab coat and started working on documentation of a new assignment left by the boss.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Becky said quietly as she concentrated on working around the specimen.

"Oh, so you can talk. Looked like you were doing something pretty intense. Are you sure you're not a mad scientist planting a nanobot to an incompetent specimen secretly creating the world's most intellectual being on the planet, planning out to wipe out the human population by planting these same nanobots to humans?" Alene asked.

Becky gave a laugh. "Honey, if I knew how to do that, I would've done it already. I mean, superhuman nanotech seems pretty legit. I'd be famous!"

"No. You'd be an international supreme leader. Kind of like the leader of the Sith!"

Becky smiled again, then continued working on her own project. "So, what made you change your mind?" she asked.

"I really couldn't say. I mean, other than plain annoyance… I'd say I really wouldn't know."

"Annoyance? Al, honey. We're scientist." Becky frowned a bit, pausing. "Elaborate." Becky gave a slight glance up from her work to see Alene's face go a bit pink which is all Becky needed to see to know exactly what was going on inside Alene's complicated brain. "Oh, I see," said Becky.

Alene tapped her pencil against the desk a couple of times, then frowned. "What?" she asked.

"Alene, do you think I'm stupid?" Becky looked up, this time taking a full break from whatever it was she was doing. She frowned too.

"What? You ain't doing me any good by asking me if I think you're stupid," Alene said. "And yes, I do think you are stupid… sometimes. You like to let emotions get the best of you , you know that?"

"Yes, that's because it's what makes us-"

Alene got up close to Becky and shushed her, putting her finger over Becky's lips. "If you finish that sentence with 'strong' or 'human' I will leave this lab and find a new place to study."

Becky just shrugged, then pulled away from Alene. "Who talked to you last night?" Becky finally asked, tucking a clipboard under her arm.

"What do you mean?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean, girl," Becky said, glowering at Alene who only glowered back. Neither Alene or Becky would ever back down when it came down to defending themselves or trying to pry into the other one's life. "Girl! I know someone talked to you because there is no way you second guessed yourself. You do what you please and when you like meaning the only reason you're still here is because someone convinced you to stay. Am I right? Now, tell me. Who was it that talked to you?" Becky had raised her voice as she propped herself against the metal lab table.

"The wet sock living next door," Alene finally said with a sighed.

"Wet sock?"

"Sorry. I've been trying to find good comparisons of bothersome things for people who really annoy me. Wet sock is one of them," Alene said, smiling with delight. She was glad to finally use her metaphors.

"Yeah, well you still didn't answer me, Al," Becky said.

"Ugh, must you be so oblivious?" Alene asked. Becky was smart, but sometimes she really could be an idiot. "MY NEIGHBOR!" Alene almost yelled.

"Yes, yes, calm down, I knew that anyway."

Alene then shook her head and looked around the room, then got closer to Becky, holding a hand to her ear. "Say what now?"

"I wanted you to say it for yourself."

"WHY?"

"You don't get it do you? HE LIKES YOU."

"Well of course he likes me. Who doesn't?" Alene said, then realized what Becky actually meant. "I take that back. What the frickle frackle?"

-SHERLOCK-

"Well of course she likes you Sherlock, why else would she stay?" John asked, pacing back to his chair with a hot cup of tea in his hands. Sherlock only stared out the window, his deep blue eyes glazed over wither uncertain of what John was actually saying or just being ignorant. Knowing Sherlock, it was probably because he was being ignorant.

"Sherlock? Are you even listening?" No response. "Sherlock, there was a murder earlier this morning-" John started, waiting to get a response out of Sherlock.

"Really? Why didn't you say so? Let's get going the, John," Sherlock said, rushing to the door.

John shook his head. "Really?" Then he frowned, trying to figure out a way to get Sherlock to actually listen to what he was going to say.

Sherlock closed his eyes. "John, you're thinking, and when I am thinking at the same time you are thinking it messes up my concentration on what's really important," Sherlock said, taking a seat again.

"Sherlock. This is important. I've already told you before. You need to connect with other people," he said. "Do you know why?"

Sherlock didn't respond. He just sat there with his eyes closed.

"Because I'm not always going to be around."

Shock flooded into Sherlock's face as he opened his eyes, looking directly at John.

-ALENE-

"What do you mean you're not going to be around all the time? It's not like you're gonna die anytime soon! God! Also, are you forgetting we are lab partners. We fricking WORK TOGETHER," Alene said loudly. There seemed to be a strange silence that lingered on in the other rooms.

"Al, all I'm suggesting is you get yourself a good group of friends. I could care less if you consider them boyfriend or not. I just want you to connect with more people," Becky said, just standing there.

Alene hopped up onto the counter, sitting and crossing her legs. "I have YOU. You are my friend. Why do I need friends with an 's'?" Alene asked.

"Because someday you'll regret not having many people to talk to," Becky said.

-SHERLOCK-

"No I won't," Sherlock protested. "Now, can we get on to solving that murder?" he asked, trying to change topics, but this time John was being the stubborn one, not budging.

Sherlock groaned, tilting his head up at the ceiling as he took a wallowing breath in. "John, you know I don't do sentimental human emotions," Sherlock explained. "I don't have time for this," he said bitterly.

"Yes you do. Because bloody hell, Sherlock, you never have time to talk about anything related to feelings!" John protested "So, because of that I have moved everything on your schedule… oh, that's right. YOU DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING ON YOUR BLOODY SCHEDULE!"

-ALENE-

"Well, I have work to do! Becky!" Alene cried. "I don't have time for emotions. It's a figure of speech not actually meaning I don't have the time. It means I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT IT!"

Becky grinned, sliding her foot across the pristine white tiled floor and slouching into a tall stool. "Well you seem pretty emotional about this. I thought you didn't give a damn," Becky said smugly.

Alene rolled her eyes. She had practically become a professional eye roller when it came to be talking to Becky. I mean, she loved Becky and all, but sometimes she could be really annoying. "Just, stop." There was no defensiveness in her voice anymore because she knew it was the only way to get Becky to leave her alone. Despite this, Becky kept going.

"Fine," Becky said, holding her hands up in the air. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it's not him who likes you," she said. "Maybe it's you."

"THAT'S IT!" Alene yelled.

-SHERLOCK-

"Sherlock? Where are you going?" John asked as Sherlock arose from his chair, grabbing his coat and heading towards the door.

Wrapping his blue scarf around his neck, he looked back slightly. "I'm proving you wrong. You know, like I always do," he said promptly then called out from the hallway. "I am ALWAYS right!"

-ALENE-

"Alene! Wait!" Becky called out as Alene stepped out of the lab still wearing her lab coat and goggles.

"It's my lunch break anyway," Alene waved her hand in the air as she ran out the door.

Walking down the sidewalk, her heels clacking against the concrete pavement with immense intensity. Alene rushed down to 221B, when all of a sudden, she saw a tall figure dressed in a blue overcoat and bluer scarf. As if she was seeing things, she stopped, rubbing her eyes and blinking them then focused on the figure. She couldn't believe it. Sherlock Holmes.

It wouldn't be so odd and coincidental if he was there with John or maybe on the lookout for someone. But no. He was looking straight at Alene. Blue eyes and everything. He walked in an irritated matter, taking heaving steps and long strides, moving his way towards her quickly.

Alene straightened up and held her hands Infront of her, holding her clear safety goggles with her black purse slung over her shoulder. "Well, I'll be darned," she said as he approached her.

"Miss Stephens," Sherlock said in his deep and emotionless voice, cocking his head towards her.

"Detective," Alene replied. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same, Miss Stephens. What are you doing here still dressed up in that silly costume of yours?"

"Excuse me. This is not a silly costume. I had to run out quick to – get some carrots," Alene said with a straight and emotionless face, taking a quick glance next to the market stand just beyond them.

"Liar," Sherlock said.

Alene laughed a little. "Okay, yeah. That was a lie."

Sherlock, unexpectedly, smiled at that, but then furrowed his eyebrows. "Erm, shall we go somewhere else?"

Alene looked around, confused… that is, confused until she found a familiar face hiding in the crowd. Looking over by the fruit stand, she could see Becky, who was wearing dark shades covering her eyes and wearing her hair down, covering her face. She appeared to be talking with another person. A man. Doctor Watson.

"What are they doing here?" Alene asked. Then it hit her. "Oh. My. God."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "Get it?"

Alene shook her head. "But how?"

"I think our friends know us more than we thought," said Sherlock a bit sourly.

"Yup." Then Alene gasped. "What if they planned this?" Alene asked in a loud whisper.

"Yeah. Most definitely planned," Sherlock repeated. "It didn't occur to me until after I had walked here."

Sherlock looked around the crowd of people that walked by the two. "So," he said clearing his throat. "How are you?"

This was the most uncomfortable and awkward conversation Alene had had in a very, VERY long time, and Alene has had some pretty awkward conversations in the past years.

Alene looked down. She could feel the rise of discomfort grow between her and Sherlock. _I'm going to kill you, Becky. _She took a breath in. "Well. I guess. Well, yes."

"Hmm. Yes. Okay."

"Yup…"

Alene looked up for a second at Sherlock, who immediately looked away.

"So, are we good?" Alene asked.

"Yes, miss Stephens," Sherlock said quickly.

Alene held her hand out in front of her. Sherlock took it and shook it.

"Friends?" Sherlock said.

"Friends," Alene repeated.

The two immediately let go of each other, looking the other direction. By the time Alene looked up again, Sherlock had disappeared into the crowd and Becky and John had left too.

The rest of the day was pretty much on the down low. Alene returned to HEXA labs to finish up part of her new research assignment and Becky pretended that nothing ever happened. It was quite funny, actually. Alene figured Becky thought she actually got away with spying on her without being noticed. Usually Alene would say something to Becky, but instead she stayed silent and talked about the latest episodes of _The Crown. _

After signing out of work, Alene hopped into a cab back to her flat. She was satisfied with how the day turned out. Everything was done out of light fun and no one got hurt. That is what Alene though until she arrived at her flat.

The evening was already setting in and the streets were getting dark. Alene could see from the inside of the cab red and blue flashing lights surrounding 221B baker street from the distance. _This really puts a damper on the day. _Sighing, Alene stepped out of the car. Luckily the sirens had been turned off and the only obnoxious thing running was the blasted bright lights. Just outside 221B multiple police cars sat along with an ambulance.

Taking a glance up to the second story window, she could see two dark silhouettes conversing in a not-so-friendly way. The taller man, who she was guessing it was the Detective, stood with his arms crossed and what looked like a gun held loosely in his hands.

It was the second man Alene was having a hard time trying to identify. He stood up straight and was shorter than Sherlock (which it seemed most people were anyways) but also taller than Dr. Watson. The man stood with a finger pointed at the ever so careless Detective, his mouth hanging open. Muffled yells could be heard from outside.

Now Alene had a choice to make. Ignore it and go home. Make her ramen and stuff herself to sleep watching Netflix, or she could go up and check on the Detective. Being her ever so nosey self, she chose option two because she was going to be her ever so nosey self.

Walking up to the ajar door of 221B, she creeped inside, mumbling a 'hello', even though she knew everyone was upstairs. The yelling and the arguing got louder as she climbed up the stairs. She then stopped, trying to hear what they were saying.

"Lestrade, you know perfectly well-"

"Yeah? Yeah, I do, Sherlock! Right now you're not the only bloody one in the room who can see the stakes right now! John agrees with me. So does Mrs. Hudson."

"Do you know how many times I have been right about cases?"

"Do you know how many times you have been wrong about emotions and human morals?"

Then there was silence.

Alene figured option number two might have been a mistake. Trying to turn around and creep back down the steps a voice made her freeze.

"There's someone outside."

Alene shook her head. _Dammit. _She could hear the door creek open.

"Miss Stephens?" John asked.

Alene turned around to face the doctor. "Sorry, I wasn't sure – well I saw the ambulance and all and figured – sorry. I'm so sorry." Alene truthfully felt bad.

"Let her come in!" A deep voice called. It was Sherlock.

John smiled and opened the door wider. "Yeah, I actually think this might be important to you, too."

Alene shook her head then headed up the stairs. "Detective, if you are trying to get info about HEXA again, I'm sorry. I really don't know anything. You're better off asking Becky."

Sherlock sat down. The other man who Alene had saw stood with a scowl on his face. His hair was cut short and speckles of gray shaded his hair.

"Miss Stephens this is DI Lestrade," Sherlock said.

The man finally smiled and shook Alene's hand. "Yes. Hello miss Alene."

Alene made an awkward smile back. "You work with the police then?"

"Yes."

"You always get into fights like this with consulting detectives?"

"Yep. On the regular."

"Oh shut up, Giles," Sherlock sighed.

"Greg, not Giles," the man muttered, then turned around and walked back to the other side of the room.

"So what were you fighting about before?" Alene asked.

Sherlock looked at Alene. "You."

Alene suddenly felt a rush of tingles run down her spine and a moment of realization. Of course. He is a detective. He is interested in my past. Why everything that has happened so far revolved around Alene Stephens, the odd American scientist.


End file.
